


An Abysmal Mistake

by domerina



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5k+ chapters fuck im sorry, Adjusting, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Deaths, Currently on hiatus I'm sorry, Cussing, F/F, F/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Mourning, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, a lot of darkspawn, like the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:02:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8519536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domerina/pseuds/domerina
Summary: Winona Wagner just graduated and has no idea what to do with her life. Her parents want her out of the house, she had been waitlisted, and over all she tries not to think about the future. When she finds an old book filled with promises of magic and excitement, she cannot help herself but try the spells the book suggests, discovering there might be more to her "spot-on intuition" than she originally thought. But a ritual goes wrong and suddenly she finds herself in a world that she has only known from a game.





	1. A Ridiculous Book for a Ridiculous Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Traveler, thanks for checking in!  
> I hope whatever you find here that it will be nothing but satisfactory to you.  
> First things first; I am not an English native speaker and have not found a beta yet, so excuse any mistakes in spelling or grammar you probably encounter on the way.  
> If you came here only for the Cullen/OC romance, I have to inform you that that won't happen before we reach Inquisition. I want to mostly focus on the character's growth and adjusting during the events of DA2, trying to flesh her out more to prevent her from being a two-dimensional thing.  
> There will be cute moments before Inquisition, though!  
> Disclaimer 1: I don't own anything related to the Dragon Age Franchise.  
> Disclaimer 2: I don't know much about Modern day witchcraft, so all the things in this chapter are made up. Any resemblance to real practices are completely coincidental.

Winona Wagner browsed through the antique bookstore’s cupboards, seemingly disinterested, disheartened, distracted. Her fingers may touch the dusty tomes, sometimes leather bound, sometimes paperback, and her eyes may follow the slowly fading lettering but her mind was trapped elsewhere. 

Winona could curse herself right now, for multiple reasons. It was not rare for her to visit the second hand bookshop, Mr & Mrs Halyday's, to simply unwind and concentrate on something else. Usually, the tiny corner store would swallow her for hours and then spat her out as a transformed woman - at least as far as her mood was concerned. She could get lost in the rare editions, and special prints, or exceptional stories that were mostly lost to the masses. The owners of the shop - Family Halyday (who would have thought) - made it a point to handpick each and every addition to their shop - of course one could find some newer, more mainstream books as well, but they were mostly to accommodate those under fifty. Although Winona with her eighteen years did fall into this category, her tiny trashy hipster heart felt herself drawn to the curiosities the shop had to offer.

Today, however, the books did not offer her any consolation, her head still stuck on the same conversation with her parents, repeating the same lines in her mind over and over again.  Her parents had been almost vicious in their attempt to explain to their daughter that she had to get a grip on her life soon, for they do not wish to feed her for the next twenty years. Now that she was eighteen and she had graduated, she should try to move on from their parental care to something more independent. If she did not want to study just yet, that was fine, but they will not allow a freeloader in their house. She should transition from her part time job to a more or less regular nine-to-seven. Finding work was not the problem. Her boss had offered her a full time position before. No, it was the fact how she felt almost forced to be a working member of society and the only way to be one was to either work or study (which was work all the same). This prospect rendered her numb, not knowing what she wanted or expected from life, only being told what was to expect. Most days she spent wandering the town and the outskirts hoping that she would find some answer to her dilemma, most nights she spent dreaming awake with a book or a game bag in her hand. Basically, she was procrastinating on life, like she always had.  Her body and mind were restless, seeking for suspense and adventure and purpose. She knew nothing but the thrills of her small hometown of which she had grown tired years ago. She had longed to leave it for so long and one day she surely would - although she feared otherwise. 

She had sent out four college applications - two for history, two for literature. Two times denied, two times waitlisted. What she would do with each of the diploma - she could not tell for she did not know. 

It also hurt to see her parents so eager to get her out of their house. Yes, she was supposed to be a full functioning adult now, and yes, feeding three children was expensive, and yes, they probably think this is the best for her. Still hurt, though. 

Her mother was a film critic for a provincial magazine, her father a museum guide, while rather exotic, the jobs were not exactly well paid - yet it was enough to keep the family sustained for eighteen years so far. It would be different, if it were a bigger magazine, a bigger museum. Winona started working for her pocket money pretty early on since her parents did not have much to offer. Her sister Rebecca just turned twelve and was starting to get a taste of that; she was already carrying out newspapers and saving up for these beautiful Mary Jane’s with silky ribbons - the girl had a better fashion sense than her older sister, who dressed well enough, but also a little what some would call strange or edgy, but not necessarily original.

 

Winona sighed, her hand gripping onto a random book. Slowly coming back to reality, she started to eye it - weathered, dark leather with silver ink. _Arcane Mysteries of the Connected Worlds_ by Marcus Adaire. What a ridiculous title. She loved it. She turned it in her hand to see the blurb. 

" _Over the course of time, philosophers and scientist described us humans repeatedly as limited minds. We cannot see further than our neighbour's fence, or so we think. Yet, this is not true. In our dreams we are encountered with limitless options. Our minds take twists and turns, that we would have thought ourselves not possible to. In this book we explore the world of dreams and explain how our sleep and other worlds - other universes - might be connected. Be warned, this book talks about ancient old magic and is not meant to be joke. Proceed carefully with its contents_."

Oh no, she was done for. She loved these sort of theories and scientific explanations of magic and mystic. Yes, sure, most of them were ridiculous, she would even go as far as to call it bullshit, but she would say it was a guilty pleasure. Winona simply refused to believe that there is not something more to this world. And of course, there would be the fact that she had her own little 'powers', as she lovingly called what her mother had titled as "spot-on intuition".  But her abilities were more than that - she would sometimes get these vivid 'mental impressions' of people and circumstance. Sometimes it was just an emotion flowing through her body - something that wasn't her own- other times she would even have flashes - she would see pictures like triggered memories that were not her own. These impressions would occasionally even go as far as to give her glimpses of the future - nothing further away then a few minutes or hours mind you. 

Without further dwelling on it she decided to purchase the book. She greeted old Mrs Halyday at the counter who gave her a knowing grin. Mrs Halyday was already well over her 70s but no day short a smile. Winona has never witnessed her having a bad mood or something as much as a momentary frown on her face and today was no different. 

"Oh, I read this one. A little too... experimental, if you ask me." 

"You mean it's weird."

"Yes... I didn't want to put it that way, Missy." 

Winona was hit by a wave of amusement that was not her own. The older lady giggled, turning her face at least a decade younger. Mrs Halyday was easily entertained and did nothing to hide that - nor to hide all her other emotions. She wore her heart on her sleeve.

And that was enough socializing for the day. Winona took the tome back home with her. After hiding her rusty bicycle in the garage she entered the house - the smell of burnt food instantly hitting her.

"Mom!" she called out as she removed her sneakers and hid them away in the cupboard, "Is everything alright? It smells awful in here." 

From the kitchen only a few paces down the hall her mother responded, her faint Italian accent still detectable to the trained ear: "Oh, yes, your brother just ruined another wok." 

"Hey," Brodie raised his voice in protest. "I didn't mean to. And I wouldn't have if you would stop bothering me about cleaning my room."

By now Winona has entered the kitchen/dining area. The room was filled with tension and anger as well as despair - obviously coming from her brother. As a teenager everything felt like a little apocalypse to him - his emotions often overwhelming although not foreign to his almost adult sister. Her mother, a shorter, curvier woman, was furiously working on the wok in the sink, a steaming pile of burned vegetables stacked on a plate next to her. Winona obviously took more after her father with her tall figure just like her brother, both sharing, however their mother's healthy but thick brown hair. Brodie was her junior by two years and hasn't quite caught up on his sister's height yet, but it was obvious by his abnormally large feet that he was bound to outgrow everyone in the family. That or he was just pretty disproportionate. She secretly hoped for the latter for shits and giggles but also wished him the best. 

She simply greeted the two before fixing herself some black tea not listening as her brother and mother bickered on and on. Then she left for her room and damn, was she happy to be there. Not because it was a particularly nice room, but simply because it was peaceful in there. No one usually entered it without valid reason - she hated that and would often proceed with kicking the person out again. Her room was never meant for the public and all that. Her brother had jokingly taped her door with two large yellow "no trespassing" stripes a few years ago - no idea where he found that. In one corner you could find a self assembled but very slow computer, rising out of piles and piles of notes, leaflets and notepads that pretty much coated her desk. There were no pictures on the wall, she had painted on them instead - cheesy little butterflies and rainbows, as well as very contradicting skulls, that had been there for years, showing the conflicted mind of a pre-pubescent girl. Although tired of the rather clumsy (not to say ugly) looking "art", she never bothered to paint over them, although her fingers itched to do so. Another thing she was procrastinating on. Honestly, the girl never got shit done. Her bed was messy as well, buried in books, since there was no space on the cupboards left. Her most priced possession however was the gaming console and the TV at the foot of the bed, she has spent two years gathering the money together, but it definitely has been worth it, although her mother cursed the thing and her brother was mildly jealous - even if it was the wrong brand to him. In one corner of the room was her archery stuff - she used to be pretty good at hitting targets and all, but at some point she gave up on the sport. Training hours started to interfere with work and they needed the money. 

Winona threw herself onto her sheets after putting the tea onto her nightstand, typing into her phone. She tried to reassure her friends, Coco and Hannah, that she was fine, even though they didn't seem to buy it. Both may be in another city living the big city and university life, but they still sensed their boring friend was having an off day. It was something in her messages they said. They were good friends, caring girls, but sometimes she wondered if they had also been friends if they have not been forced into each other in class.

Putting her phone away to charge, she grabbed her new book instead, scanning over the pages. She could not really explain it but whenever she put her hands on the book, she felt this tingling sensation in her fingers. She chalked it up as nothing but simple excitement, but the explanation sure left room for self-doubt.

It contained different theories about dreaming and magical powers, some of them reminded her eerily of one of her favourite video games, Dragon Age, which made them less and less likely in her eyes. Dragon Age had the most fascinating lore and since she was sort of a history and literature crack, it was not surprising anyone that she had spent many nights reading up on it and trying to draw connections to real history and conflicts.

" _Magic as we imagine it - the art of conjuring things or hexes and charms - is not exactly the kind of powers we can utilize. We - with which I mean a more select group of people - can master the power of our minds: telepathy, telekinesis, and divination. Have you ever encountered curious happenstances of which, for example, you were able to predict the exact outcome of? Have you ever moved something without touching it? Felt like you could tell what the others think? Then maybe you are part of the group of people able to use and bend the energy around you. We ask you to do the following as a little self-experiment. It usually will not work at the first try, so we encourage you to practice these steps throughout a week for complete certainty_." 

With a grin in her face she decided to give the book a go and do this little exercise. She did, after all, possess a rather strong "intuition". The book told her to mediate for a few seconds and try to sense where everyone else in the house and what they were doing, so she would try to do that first. She sat up straight and crossed her legs, breathing in and out evenly, first trying to calm herself down, before mentally reaching through the house. And reach she did. At first she just tried to rebuild the house in her head. The kitchen, living room, and her parents bedroom on the ground floor, her room, as well as the two rooms of her siblings next to it, the stairs to the attic, and the messy bathroom on the first floor. Then she tried to sense what her family was doing. In her mind her mother had already stopped scrubbing the wok and was now looking for samples between the glossy pages of the newest issue of Cosmo. She loved the magazine for some reason. For some reason she was sure that Brodie was in his room now, head underneath the covers, eyes trained on the messages from a girl a named Emily. Rebecca was not home yet, she was still in her sewing class. Her father should be at work... but suddenly a thought crossed her mind - he had to come home early, because he hurt himself at home. It was a sudden, wild thought, its origins unkown, and she sure hoped it was just her fantasy running while, but there was this typical feel to it, that she always had when she had her mental impressions, the sort of weight that suddenly built up in her chest, a sting that went through her brain. Suddenly the mental image of her father limping from the garage to the house entrance crossed her mind. And then the doorbell rung and she jumped off her bed, close to a heart attack, breathing uneven. She bolted out of her room, down the stairs. "I'm getting that!" 

But as she arrived down stairs, she saw that her mother had already opened the door, helping her father into the house. 

"Are you okay, sweety?" Her father looked at her with a lopsided grin. 

"I should be asking you that, Dad," she joked lightly as she watched her father supporting himself on her mother. 

"Sprained my ankle, but don't you worry about lil' ole me. Fell down a flight of stairs." 

Winona winced at the thought. Her father was a guide at the Local History Museum. The building was quite high with a lot of stone stairwells. Must have been a rather uncomfortable venture down. 

"Sorry for that. I had a feeling something was wrong..." she admitted. It wasn't the first time for anyone here after all.

Her mother chimed in: "Ah, you and your intuition." 

"Guess so, Mom. Need any help with him?"

"Let's not exaggerate, we'll only pack some ice on it." 

Winona still helped her father to the couch, he was a rather heavy man after all. 

 

 

A week had gone by and Winona was still working on the book. She had tried out other little tasks within mostly succeeding. For example, she had been able to blow a candle out with sheer will. It was nothing to fanciful, it could have been a sudden breeze to the rational mind but Winona chose to believe in magic rather than logic. She had felt as if she had been the breeze to extinguish the little flame, it was hard to describe. She kept skimming through the pages until she found something that peeked her interest:

" _Parallel-universes, as in universes that coexist with us as opposed to universes that mirror ours with the tiniest or most gravest of differences, are indeed existent, and we are all connected by the same force or pull that builds bridges between these worlds. Similarities can be drawn to the Theory of Forms by Plato, who believed that our 'material world' - the visuals of our world that we take in with our senses-  is not actually the real world, but a copy of the real world. In some of Plato's dialogues with Socrates, the latter explains that there are two worlds - the apparent world, which is always changing around us - and the hidden constant that is the world of forms, from which we draw ideas and the ability to distinguish a frog from a fly. However, I'd like to refer to this world as the Web. And instead of us constantly taking from it, we are actually adding to it all the same. Our world, our ideas, our cultures are being reflected in this world and bent. And sometimes ideas from other universes are brought to ours and are brought into thought through the dreams in which we constantly visit and expand the web. Some of our inventions or solutions may be actually from someone else somewhere else. If you are longing for more solid facts, consider Ley-Lines (p. 19), also called Ghost Paths, which connect important sacrilege buildings and places in our world. Energetic fields were the strangest, supernatural things occur, for spirits travel these paths as the connection between us and the much feared beyond is very strong there. They are merely the lines where the borders between our woken world and the dreaming one are almost blurring. Now that we have established that other worlds are connected by the Web, or the Dreaming, or whatever you want to call it, we can discuss the possibilities of Interworld Traveling..."_

 

Interworld Traveling was basically using this so called Web to create some sort of path or tunnel -if you will- to travel to another world. It sounded crazy but at the same time... Winona knew many things in the book had either worked for her or at least were somewhat on par with things she had experienced in the past. Her very talent for empathy - her mental impressions of things, events, and people that often seemed closer to telepathy and/or straight up fortune telling than simple intuition - or the concepts of the Balance of the Universe - Karma, where all included in this book. 

Okay, maybe just some lucky guesses and the rest was bollocks, but there was no harm in trying and failing and then ultimately concluding this affair with simply feeling stupid about herself, right? God, she was crazy. It would be her death someday. Or her ticket to a mental institution. 

According to Arcane Mysteries of the Connected Worlds there was a way to bind an item to another world and your own to travel between the two places. As always there was a short warning paragraph about how this power shall not be abused to "force-change" the course of our destiny. Admittedly, the writing was a little pretentious which made Winona like this tome even more. 

She had to try it. The spell required an item with a strong emotional connection first, and she chose to search for her mother's locket, which was given to her on her 18th birthday. It had been passed down the family tree for decades now and existed on Earth longer than Winona herself, which made it perfect for the spell. The locket was silver, nothing too fancy, with a matching chain. Within there was no picture but incense that had long but lost its smell. Her mother had told her to change it, but the young girl hasn't gotten around to it yet. The Acessoire was meant to be a lucky charm for traveling, which was oddly fitting as well. After searching for a few minutes, she finally found it within her jewelry box buried on her desk. Oh, she should clean up instead of playing witch with a book written by a wannabe physicist.

" _To deepen the connection with the item, blood is required. Prick your finger with a needle, a drop should suffice._ " She opened the locket and dumped the incense into her paper trash can, before she pressed one of her sisters sewing needles into her thumb and squeezed out a little blood to drop it into the jewellery - very sanitary, she promised, she used disinfectant spray after all.

The book said that she was supposed to energize the item by putting it outside under the moonlight. Lucky for her it was a clear night, so she opened her window and placed the still open locket onto the windowsill. Honestly, she felt stupid following the steps, especially since this part seemed pretty pointless, but okay. 

She licked the excess blood of her finger and shook her head. Was she performing blood magic now? Her dead grandmother would disapprove, the girl thought. It was funny, how desperately she wanted this to work, how desperately she needed to believe in this. Winona was a romantic, an idiot, a dreamer, which too much time to spend and this is how she chose to spend it - by wasting it to live in a fantasy, to act out childish games. She did not truly believe in this ritual, but she wanted to. And so she just did it. There was no deeper reason to it, or at least she wasn't capable of seeing it. 

She turned of the light and got under the covers, her phone now illuminating her as she mindlessly looked through Instagram seeing posts that showed her friends and old schoolmates using their new freedom to travel the world and she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. She desperately wanted to get away from her hometown and experience new things, she wanted to climb mountains in Nepal as user xoxoeliasm did, or see the Great Wall of china like nocturnalola, but she simply did not have the money to do it nor did her parents. If they had the money they would give it to her, she was sure of it. 

Yet, tomorrow she would continue with a pointless and stupid ritual.  She fell asleep with a heavy heart and wet eyes. 

 

The next was spent busily, finding the things the book set as an requirement for the binding. Winona looked at her list, checking for a final time if she had all the things she needed in her backpack. 

  * The Locket
  * Sage
  * Rosemary
  * Tea Lights or Candles
  * A Tiger's Eye (on a string) 
  * Two stones with Runes painted on it 



" _You must go to a clearing before nightfall and cleanse the area with sage._ " The sun was already starting to set, when she got on her bike. No one asked where she was going, her family never did. Rebecca at least cared enough to say "See you later." The girl told herself that she simply was old and responsible enough in the eyes of her parents. Funny, how she set out to do something stupid and probably very irresponsible in the forest. If her mother knew she would not approve, being a rather superstitious woman, but she would probably never find out. Not from Winona anyways. 

Her hometown was surrounded by woods, so finding a clearing turned out to be a rather easy task. It was autumn and the orange light from the sunset made the wet red, orange, and brown leaves beneath her glisten. It had rained up until an hour ago, but the forecast said it was to be a clear night. After cleansing the area with burning sage in order to not draw attention from evil, the book said to set up her tea lights in a circle wide enough for her to sit in. Now, that was irresponsible - setting a fire next to the forest. She did it anyway. The locket was placed in the middle. Next she placed two stones on the left and right side of her items. She had painted a rune on each of them with blue ink. One rune was Raido - it looked like an R but with more edges-; it stood for travel mostly or so the book had said, the other rune was called Ehwaz, which resembled an M but had way longer sides; it stood for transportation and communication. The Tiger's Eye stone was meant to protect her, which she opted for wearing it around her neck. She lit the rosemary incense and placed it in a cup above the locket. She took a deep breath. 

" _Make sure to keep your emotions in check - we are about to rip a tunnel into the Web, it is bound to draw attention. It is advised to stay calm, so negative emotions will not attract evil spirits to us_." 

A little voice in her head reminded her how stupid this whole situation was. She was playing witch, she was acting as if it was real. Yet something else urged her on. She couldn't quite place the feeling, maybe it was just a surge of curiosity, but something told her she had to complete this ritual. It would work. 

She put her backpack back on. It was time - the moon stood its highest on midnight. Winona had put some things inside like a compass, the book, her phone, and a few toiletries - things she usually had there when she was traveling, which wasn't often. The next step was to position herself over the little altar and to speak the first invocations. She got down on her knees within the tea light circle and leaned over the locket. It was time to turn her "special item into a travel conduit", which meant an item that was bound between two worlds. 

Winona cleared her throat. "I bind this item to the light of this moon and these stars, I bind this item to this earth and this air. I bind this locket to the another moon as well. It shall be my pathfinder." 

Her breath stilled. The candles around her no longer carried the soothing, small flames. The fire has risen high, it cackled loudly now, a wild dance reaching for the stars. The book had said that the reaction would be immediate, that the fire would change - but she had never expected this. The flames now warmed her skin and her forehead began to turn wet underneath the small bangs of her pixie cut. This could not be. This could not happen. A part of Winona was tempted to abort mission right now, but she did not know how. Escaping was not possible through this wall of fire. She had to continue. 

The locket felt oddly warm in her hands, as she pressed it against her chest. This next invocation was to spoken three times.  "I will find my way through the Dreaming to worlds that are unknown to me." She took another breath, trying to keep the panic from rising in her stomach. "I ask for safe travels. Moon and stars guide me through." That was the first time. The dance of the fire seemed to come to an absolute stop. It was as if it was completely frozen, not even the familiar cackle continued. "I will find my way through the Dreaming to worlds that are unknown to me. I ask for safe travels. Moon and stars guide me through." She closed her eyes, another breath. No reaction from the fire. "I will find my way through the Dreaming to worlds that are unknown to me. I ask for safe travels. Moon and stars guide me through." The next thing Winona knew was that she was pressed to the ground. A loud bang tore through the silence of the night. She ripped her eyes opened and did not see the blue beam she was promised by the author. No, she was surrounded by green lights that formed something like a portal. She tasted ashes in her mouth. Her eyes stung as the light blinded her. There was another sound; this one a gut-wrenching yell that shook her body and kept resonating through her ears.  She wrapped her arms around her face in sheer fear. She no longer wanted to witness this. She did not understand this. She wanted to go home. " _If you change your mind at this point, you must say the following_ ," the book had said and Winona immediately remembered the simple two phrases and started whispering them repeatedly: "Moon and Stars above me, I must stay behind." 

If it worked, she could not say, because she kept her eyes shut tightly. Suddenly she felt something pull at her, claws digging into her parker, dragging her through the mud. She swatted for where she could feel the hands, eyes still closed, but there was nothing, and she ended up hitting herself. She started kicking and screaming, hoping to hit something, someone, and make it stop and all of the sudden it did. Winona felt like she was floating. White noise replaced the cry before her mind turned completely blank and she fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this long-ass chapter, I hope you liked it!  
> Always open for comments, your thoughts and ideas, and constructive criticism.  
> Love, Dom


	2. Gone Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winona arrives in Thedas and is not amused at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, finally it's here! The second chapter, even longer than the first one, I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself. I try not to go too overboard with the third one. Much love to everyone who left kudos on the first chapter, MUCH APPRECIATED.   
> Still un-beta'd, be nice. I red through it three times, not sure if that helped. Have fun!

It was as if a thousand needles where pricking in her brain, when she awoke. Winona contemplated going back to sleep, sleep the headache away, and so she turned on her side — but something was not right. This was not her comfy bed - the grounds where hard and cold and something rustled when she turned. Leaves. The rustling of leaves cracking under her weight. Her eyes shot open as she remembered last night... So she must of fell asleep while she was waiting for the night? No. Her eyes searched her surroundings. A typical forest scenery. But the leaves... they were not an autumn shade of red and orange. Everything was tinted in a stale sort of green. And the sky above her was grey and cloudy. As if someone had drained the colour of the world. That... was weird. As far as she remembered there were no more green trees left yesterday. She could hear a raven's craw in the distance. Frantically Winona got on her feet. Okay, she still wore her backpack, which was a relief. Good. Obviously, this was not the clearing she went to yesterday, so the tea lights and the little stones were missing. No biggie. This does not mean anything. Also, her bike... She checked again, pointlessly so, but it was nowhere to be seen. Not so good. But she could search for it after she got back home- if this still _was_ home. It could not have happened, could it? Did she travel to another world? Except for the colour of the leaves, it did not look so different. _Okay, staring at the trees won’t help. I need to find a road. Anything._ Without much thought to it, she decided to simply go straightforward. She did have a compass in her phone, but she would not know in which direction to go anyways... Her phone! She took it out of her bag and quickly hammered the home button. It was down half the battery and said no service. Shit. Better turn it off completely, she could try again once she found civilization.

She continued to go straight between the trees, her heart pounding in fear, which she tried to push away. She needed to focus. There is no point in panicking now, maybe this does not mean anything. And if this happens to be another world, as the book promised, then she would have to wait with the whole emotional breakdown until she was somewhere safe. A forest was hardly a place for that. Rationalization did not stop her heart from racing though.

Lost in thought, Winona lost her balance, as her right foot got caught underneath a root, sending her flying against a tree. She hit her stomach against a broad trunk, pressing the air right out of her chest, causing her to exhale sharply. For a few seconds she just took in the sharp pain that spread through her naval region to the sides, her face red with two single tears finding their way down her cheeks. Trying to calm herself down, she eyed the area again, trying to find something to focus on.

Something caught her attention. A red arrow painted onto brown bark, that she barely caught from the corner of her eye. _Something man-made, thank God_! She considered it for a moment. _Figures it leads somewhere, right? Better than to just walk in circles..._ It pointed to the right, away from her original direction. The pain, still prominent, became more bearable now.

It turned out to be a smart move to follow the arrow, because no five minutes later she watched as the trees thinned out to reveal a road... of sorts. It was not exactly a smooth highway type of deal, but an abundance of rocks, that were strung together and barely smoothed out. It looked pretty enough, but she would not want to drive a car on this.

Looking into one direction she spotted something blocking the road. She carefully approached, realizing it was a carriage. A carriage that had been tipped over to the side. _What the_... She sped up, taking in the damage that had been done. What was once a beautifully painted carriage adorned with ornaments, was now a raided mess, with scratches revealing its original light colour. And then there was this _smell._ It was sickeningly sweet in a way, knocking on her throat, threatening to make her retch. She had half the mind to turn around again but there was something leaning against a broken wheel. A bag! She sped up and went to her knees next to it. There was a scrap of paper lying on top of it, but she could not read the script. The strange letters reminded her of the runes introduced in the book, so she quickly took it out and searched for the guide. They were similar but not the same. Except for one. It meant anxiety and deceit. It was probably just a coincidence. Again. This whole thing seemed oddly set up. Like it was meant for her. And looking at the carriage no one would miss the bag if she were to take it.

The smell seemed to grow more potent by the minute, making the air almost stuffy. The sweetness seemed to subside while it grew more and more foul, making her retch this time. It reminded her of rotten meat in a fridge... Oh no. Swiftly, she bound her perfumed, red scarf over her nose and mouth, before shifting her attention back to the backpack. It was leathern and looked pretty handmade. No special designs, just the texture of the dark brown skin and the coarse black stitching. Her mom would like this, it looked like something you could buy at a flea market. Her mom… Her family… Where they already worried? Where they looking for her? Probably not, it has only been a few hours, right? She looked up and spotted the sun high up in the sky – midday? Maybe past midday already even… _I have not been walking for_ this _long now, or have I?_ Ugh, this thinking gave her a headache.

Underneath the bag was a... bedroll? She would take it with her as well. She peeked inside: multiple pouches; One was filled with dry vegetables, another one with dried fruits, but the last one was empty. There were also a few bandages included, a dagger ( _oh shit_ ), a smaller knife, a flask with water, and… clothes. Should she... put them on? Yeah, that's probably a good idea. If this is really another world, she would have to adjust right? Not draw too much attention to her. She took the contents out of her own backpack and put them all in her new leather one. Her bag was a dirty no-name thing from the shopping mall with holes. It was not too hard to let it go.

Most of clothing items were made of leather, again, which to her seemed like a very uncomfortable idea. The best solution would be to jump into the carriage now to change, so she crossed the corner, to the entrance, noticing that the smell grew even stronger now, seeping through her scarves fabric, making her nauseous. She stepped into the carriage noting how the seats where covered with blue velvet - it seemed very luxurious. On the seats: a bow and arrows. Her heart stopped. She immediately knew that she would need this. Winona was familiar with archery after all, even if she was a little out of shape, maybe. Next to the weapon was a little chest, it had been broken open - inside gold, silver, and copper points. Without wasting so much as a thought, she quickly collected them into her pouch. She quickly removed her clothes quickly - not without hitting her head against the roof multiple times - before struggling to put on the odd leather armour. It seemed like armour indeed, once she had managed to dress herself. A leather corset draped itself around her torso over a linen shirt - which had been the only non-leathern item. The pants were matching and high-waisted, tied with where the zip should be. Everything clung rather tightly to her body, and she felt exposed. To top it all off, she had also received a belt - not for holding her pants in place, but as a sheath for the dagger. She strapped the quiver to the backpack - which turned out to be a very complicated task. If Winona had been able to see herself right now, she would probably think she looked ridiculous - or maybe badass, like a cosplayer. _Ah, who am I fooling? I probably look weird as fuck_.

The good old foul scent greeted her once she left the carriage, and she bound her scarf around her head again. She would just follow the road from here on. Passing the carriage she now saw the origin of the smell. Her heartbeat picked up again, as well as her breathing. Winona had only seen one dead body in her life before - her grandma all prepped and positioned in her wooden coffin, eyes closed. The bodies in front of her, however, had their eyes open and bodies twisted in terrifyingly unnatural positions. Blood pooled around them. Four humans lay there, a woman, three men. The men all carried big swords, while the woman had a tiny little dagger in her grey hand, as big as a butter knife. She had been killed by an arrow to her chest. A fly landed in her mouth that was left wide open, her face still showing traces from the terror she must have felt the second she had died. Winona quickly ran to the closest tree and emptied her stomach, leaving a sour sting her mouth. She wondered if the person from the strange note killed them, or if it was them who left it. Why would anyone do this? Winona tried to wrap her head around the situation. Whatever killed them might still be around - she had to move. Without risking another glance, she walked away on wobbly legs. _This should not be this easy_ , she kept saying in her head. _Walking away from this, murder, dying, it should not be this easy_.

No ten meters away from the carriage, she found another body - already trying to tear her gaze away, she noticed something that made her pause. It did not look human and she was pretty sure it wasn't, not anymore anyway. She looked at the face, the flesh all grey, the teeth long and sharp, eyes empty of live and also colour. This was a monster. Yet, she recognized something in it. As if she had encountered such a creature before. A shiver went through her body, goose bumps spreading. The creature looked like a nightmare come true. She needed to get out of this forest, now!

Uneasiness and panic already settled into her bones, before she heard it - the sharp breathing and moaning behind her drawing closer. Her hand immediately reached for her bow and she turned around sharply, seeing carbon copies of the creature to her feet - three as far she could count - stumbling into her direction. They had their swords and axes over their heads, their expression vicious. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Her head went blank, her hands seemed to act on her own accord, she shot - and missed. Again, this time she hit it right into the chest, but it only lost balance for a split second. Her body now changed from fight to flight, her legs carrying her over the uneven stone. She was faster than _them_ , but for how long? She was out of shape after all. That was when her brain finally tried to reboot. Maybe she should make a run for the trees and hope to lose them in-between. No, she would never find this road again. Her hand went up to shield her eyes, as the sun slowly started to set behind the trees, the rays low but blinding. Her lungs were already burning. Her head kept repeating the same old plea - make them go away! The pain in her torso from the tree shot through her body with every step, it was horrible.

As if her prayers had been heard she spotted a bridge - and behind the bride she swore she could make out a building or maybe even more. With regained hope, she sped up.

"HELP, HELP!" Her cries echoed between the trees, before her tummy turned again. Running this fast seemed to make her sick. As if by miracle, she reached the bridge, where two man ran towards her.

"Puh-... leese, the... things," was everything she managed to squeeze out of her throat, the words breaking up between pants. One of the two yelled something, before facing the monsters, but she could not make out one word. Winona somehow managed to miss out on the fight as well, as she broke down on the bridge, her arm holding onto the stone railing like a drowning woman onto a safety buoy. Her head was spinning and she could feel bile rising up her throat again, but luckily she could hold it in.

"Girl, are you okay? They did not touch you, did they?" A strong voice behind her asked, she slowly turned around, still supporting her entire weight on the railing. A tall man stood in front of her, like really tall. Winona had always been one of the highest people in class, man usually only exceeded her by a few centimetres, but this one seemed at least a head taller than her. His sword was ridiculously big as well, and he seemed to sheath it somewhere on his back with incredible ease. He was extremely buff, his hair jet black, and he stared at her with an almost furious expression. He could have been handsome, if he would have stopped making that face.

"No, no... they... jus' chase me... down," was her reply, as she tried to regulate her breathing. One shaking hand went through her short hair, which felt completely soaked to be honest.

"She seems unharmed. No blood anywhere, clothes look _new_ even. Must have been bloody lucky. Good thing we were around," said the other one, who turned out to be woman, a very shapely one at that. There was an uncaring note in her voice, but deep inside this woman was worried, borderline scared, Winona was able to sense that. Her hair was also black. They seemed to be related. "Good thing, we were there to safe you from the Darkspawn, right lady?"

"Darkspawn...?" The name rang a bell. They sure do look like Darkspawn from Dragon Age, but that surely would be ridiculous.

"Yes, Darkspawn, what else would it be?"

Oh, she had to think quickly. "... Assholes."

The tall man raised his eyebrow and folded his arms, while his sister - presumably - laughed.

"Oh, I like her! Can we keep her?"

"This is not the -", the man started, but Winona interrupted him.

"Sorry, but where am I?"

"This is Lothering," the man answered. Oh, this cannot be a coincidence. "And we should really be going now. Their horde should be here soon, I saw them at Ostagar. The three you ran away from are nothing in comparison."

This as well sounded eerily familiar, and the traveller could not help herself, but ask: "Oh, you were fighting alongside the king?"

"Yes, I-"

"Look, we can discuss this later. As my brother here - Carver, by the way - has said, the Darkspawn army should be here soon. We need to get out of here. Our mother and sister are waiting behind that bridge with our stuff. My name is Marian Hawke. You can come with us, if you want, sticking around here would be ill-advised, to say the least."

"What? Why should we take her," her brother protests.

"Look at her, Carver! Do you see these lost puppy eyes? She definitely needs help." Carver just sighed. No point in arguing with his sister now. Did not stop him from thinking that she would just slow them down.

Winona's breathing seemed to pick up again, with all the new information coming to her. This was Hawke? _The_ Hawke? And this was Lothering, during the blight. Okay, she must have hit her head real hard yesterday, or something, because she landed in a video game franchise. _How fucking ridiculous is that_?

Marian cleared her throat, which snapped the girl out of her thoughts again. _This whole thing is stupid, but smartest move would be to just play along_.

"I accept your offer and thank you," she pauses, "I'm Winona."

"Follow us," Carver ordered, his voice extra annoyed, as they continued to cross the bridge. It was hard to believe that he was supposed to be her age. While his behaviour - at least in the game - was pretty age appropriate if not even childish, he looked pretty mature. _I suppose the constant threat of doom and gloom doesn't do your skin any favours, huh?_ Also, that scowl was bound to cause wrinkles at some point. Sad for him, it happened rather early.

In passing, she could see tents by the tiny village, only consistent of a handful of building really. People where running around, packing their things, scared. A part of Winona was extremely excited about this outcome of events. At least she knew about this world, knew the storyline, and for the first time since waking up here, she had hope. Just sick to Hawke and survive up until Kirkwall. Then you can try to return home again. The rational side of her argued that she was probably just imagining this, which probably would be for the better.

Carver and Hawke had stopped, Winona, however, all lost in her head, did not notice it. That means, until she straight up walked into Carver.

"Oh, shite, sorry!" was followed by more and more apologies, as her face turned hot and red. Carver just shook his head and sighed the most agitated sigh Winona has heard in years, while someone else laughed.

She turned her head to said person, a girl with long black hair and brown eyes, staff on her back - a mage. Next to her; an older woman clad in a dress with a Mabari dog waggling his tail beside her.

"This is Winona, we-," Hawke began.

"Saved my arse."

The two women introduced themselves as Bethany and Leandra - of course.

"The little rut there is called Henry." Marian cradled the dog between the ears. Winona used to have a dog when she was younger - a sweet little dachshund -, but this beast was a whole different calibre. It was so tall, almost intimidatingly so, but the way it first nuzzled her finger before licking it, promptly set her mind at ease.

"Where are you from?", the mother asked.

Winona tried not to look too shocked and come up with something really fast.

"The Hinterlands." _Ouch, Nona, what the hell_.

"You don't say. We _are_ in the Hinterlands, after all," Smartmouth Hawke chimed in. The girl laughed in spite of herself, trying to think of the next best place she could remember from the games.

"A fisher hut... two hours from Redcliffe." That sounded vague enough, right? They seemed to buy it.

"Oh, then you had quite the trip! Poor thing seems all shaken up."

"You could say that, Leandra." Good thing acting weird is apparently not weird when the Darkspawn are making their rounds.

The family discussed their next move, deciding that it was time they left. Waiting around for the horde to overtake them was not the best idea and the young girl could not agree more.

A cry interrupted their discussion. The grip of five immediately turn their heads towards the source, only to see that the source was dead and a man had already gathered to fight the cause. Darkspawn were flooding in from the north gate.

"We should fight!", Carver yelled already readying his sword in his hand, but Marian grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Look, they easily overwhelmed the farmers, no point in fighting, we need to leave," came from Bethany. Her statement left Winona speechless - these men and women fighting were nothing but villagers protecting what was theirs. Now she faintly remembered that the game mentioned that Templars had left before the attack. Cowards. She watched as Darkspawn set fire to the first building, war cries mixing with the metallic chimes of swords colliding. She watched as man went down, throats slit, or limbs cut, or simply impaled. Suddenly she felt someone forcefully take her hand and drag her away.

"Come on, Winona, you can't stay here," the young mage told to her, panic evident in her voice. Quickly Winona shook the images form her head. They were right. Lothering was a lost cause now.

They made their way over the bridge from which they came from. _Again with the running._ Once out of the village they were relieved to see that there were no Darkspawn in sight yet, but no one dared to pause. Marian led the group, further away from Lothering, and a few minutes later, they started to shift from sprinting to marching - fast.

Bethany risked a look back to Winona, who was trailing behind a little bit, before her brown eyes looked past her. "I hope more people got out of there."

Winona followed her gaze only to see smoke rising between the trees. The village must be completely aflame by now.

"Me too," Leandra agreed.

They ventured on for a few hours, and the scenery slowly seemed to change as night fell. Instead of faded green woods, plants seemed to become fewer and fewer, the landscape now painted by dirt and stone.

"We should set up camp," Marian pointed to a rocky hill, "seems like a decent enough spot. I take first watch." No one dared to complain.

In silence they opened their bedrolls, while Hawke gather some firewood.

"Need some help with that?" Bethany asked, but her older sister just shook her head no, and unsheathed her weapon - another staff, Winona noted. _Why didn't I notice it sooner_? _Sarcastic Mage Hawke, huh_? Winona herself had always chosen rogue Hawke, with a more or less balanced personality. Video game mechanics are usually a little easier than real breathing people, who knows what will happen.

The traveller plopped herself on her bedroll. It smelled like death, like the carriage, but so did she. It did no longer seem to matter. The pain in her tummy promptly shot back through her once the Adrenalin subsided, and she couldn't help herself but cry out and hold her side.

"What is it?" Bethany sprinted to her side, worry on her face.

Winona shook her head: "It's nothing probably. A bruise or something."

"Come on, show me, I can probably help."

She did as she was asked, carefully opening her leather cuirass and lifting the linen shirt. It revealed a nasty, purple, oval-shaped bruise. Winona could see the mage grimace for a second, before putting a hand over it. Pity and phantom pain went through Bethany’s mind. The hand started to glow in a soft blue hue, before releasing soothing warmth that seeped into her skin, slowly putting a stop to the hurt. Even the bruise started to fade around the edges. Then it was over.

Honey brown eyes met surprised grey ones, a delicate, black eyebrow arched. "Never seen a mage before?"

"Don't exactly have those where I am from."

"I can imagine," she said, before giving her an understanding smile. While magic was not exactly a rarity in Thedas, many people grew up and died without ever encountering it their entire life. It was just common knowledge to avoid mages and their powers like the blight.

Winona simply smiled back, but it was weak, nothing but a twitch of the corners of her mouth. Her limbs were burning from overexertion, and her mouth involuntarily opened to yawn. God, it was good to sit.

Her healer looked as if she wanted to ask another question, but seemed to think better of it and just bid her a goodnight.

Too tired to even dwell on anything at all, Winona removed her shoes and slipped into the bedroll to pass out into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

It felt as if she had only spent a few minutes in complete darkness, before a strong hand shook her shoulder. Unable to shake the sleep from her mind, she mumbled: "Jus' a minute, please."

"Hey, it's your turn." The strange male voice tore her completely from her drowsy state. Well, that sure was not her father. She had hoped... Winona was not sure what she had hoped. To wake up at home, maybe? She promptly got up into a sitting position, stretching her arms over her head, before apologizing to Carver and sending him to bed.

"Wake us up as soon as the sun rises." With that he got back to his sleeping bag.

Sunrise would be in a few. She could already make out the first orange rays painting the horizon. She loved the view. She loved how many stars she could see. Right, she needed to focus now. No stargazing, even she had never seen such a vastness of li- _Nona, focus_. The girl rose, before quickly packing her things together and putting on her boots. Made no sense to leave it all out in the open now. She put her bow and quiver on her back and settled on a nearby rock, food pouch in her hand, to keep look out.

Everything seemed so peaceful. Winona found herself missing the occasionally car engine, as she continued to chew on something that could have been a dried carrot in silence. Now she only had the peaceful breathing and Hawke's snoring to sustain her. However, she knew that this was only the calm before the storm and she best enjoy it. After all, she knew what was to come today. Her breath hitched. The Ogre and Flemeth. Would Bethany die tomorrow like in the game whenever you chose mage Hawke. That was pretty much the reason, why Winona had always chosen to go with the rogue. Had never cared much for Carver, and now that she has met him she felt awful for that, even if he was a right tit. _No, this has to be different, it just has to be._ She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, before stretching herself again. Maybe she could save her. But maybe she should not meddle with the story... What would be best?

Suddenly Henry rose to walk over to her and settle on one of her feet to lick the shoe. She let him, finding comfort in this gesture, and petted his head, while her eyes were trained on her surroundings.

There was this irrational worry in her head that maybe she would miss something creeping up on them, which honestly was not possible, especially with a smart dog around. Mabaris had war in their blood after all. She was sure he served as an alarm bell just as well. The orange stripe on the horizon slowly grew as the minutes passed.

"He seems to like you," a soft whisper disrupted the silence, as Hawke rose from her bedroll. She started to pack her things.

"Dogs like anyone who give them a good rub," Winona replied nonchalantly and Marian chuckled at that.

"Ah, we both know Mabaris are smarter than that." Ha, typical Fereldan insider knowledge.

"You are right."

_I miss having a dog... Who can I romance for a dog? Cullen... in like ten years, great_. She considered this for a moment. _Ah, I can pull this off. No hurry_. She grinned at her ridiculous thoughts. It was a good thing that she tried to take this whole thing with humour. Once she was finally in safety though, she would scan the book for a way back. She had enough of Thedas for three lifetimes.

"What did you do? Before the blight, I mean," Hawke asked, now sitting next to the younger girl. Winona's eyes were fixed on the horizon as she tried to think. Ah, she really did not want to lie.

"Lived with my parents." True. "In a tiny fisher hut by the lake." Half-true, there was a lake. It just was not Lake Calenhad.

"So you were a fisher, I take it? How does a fisher wind up with bow and arrow?"

"No, I wasn't a fisher." True. "I was the hunter for the family." _Fuck my gut, that is a big lie_. She did practice archery, but there were never animals involved.

"Where is your family now?"

"Not here." True.

Marian looked at her worriedly, her mouth in an "o" shape. Apparently, she had heard something in this statement that was not there, and Winona was happy to let her believe whatever. Awkwardly she put a hand on Winona's shoulder and squeezed it shortly. Then she cleared her throat: "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but _thank the maker_." It was obvious that the topic was uncomfortable for both women. Winona jokingly hit Marian with her elbow and they quietly laughed the discomfort away.

It was not easy to lie like this, but there was no point in telling the truth, it is not exactly the most believable story and they had other worries to attend to.

Winona looked over at Hawke, as she stuffed more food into her mouth. Now that she knew who the woman was, the resemblance to the game figure was quite uncanny. Of course, there was a fully fleshed-out, real woman here, who had small wrinkles around her eyes and greasy hair that only added to the tired look on her pretty face.

As if hit by lightning Henry shot up and started barking into the distance. The sun was already heating up their faces now, slowly peaking between the far trees. And between the trunks shadows appeared. "Shit, scouts! Winona, wake everyone."

And so she did. In the distance she could hear the already familiar moans that made her   break out in goose bumps again. Bethany and Carver quickly grabbed their weapons and joined Hawke, who had started unleashing fireballs at the group. Winona helped Leandra pack their things.

"I count... Ten!" That was Carver.

"Now nine." Hawke. Smug as ever.

"Stay here, Leandra." Winona ran down the hill to help, knowing that the older woman was not much of a fighter.

Her heart pounded like crazy in her ears as she raised her bow, aiming at the Hurlock bolter. She opted to go save and hit the chest area first. She was still a little rusty with her skill and this bow was nothing like hers at home. No aiming help, completely wooden. Just... Old fashioned. She drew her bow and released the arrow, once she felt like she had a clear aim. Snap, she hit! She quickly repeated it, and soon the Archer fell to the ground, growling a last time before becoming completely still. This caused her t feel terrible mixed with pride. In awe, she did not notice the Hurlock approaching her with his sword high above his head, ready to hit.

"Winona!"

Even though, she had no idea who called out her name or where it came from, she snapped her head in the right direction, as if it was second nature, aiming for the beast and hastily shooting another arrow, hitting the arm and making the monster drop its weapon - which did not stop it from launching at her and throwing her to the ground - she gasped as her back collided with the rough stone and she dropped her bow. With arms and legs flailing around, she struggled against the Hurlock. Her arms hit against the torso multiple times, but she was not trained in combat. The Darkspawn growled into her face, his breath reeking like foul eggs, before punching her in the eye, the metal of its armor digging into her brow. First, she didn't understand what was happening, a ringing muffled out all the other sounds around her, and her view became bleary, something wet stained her right temples. She thought, she cried out once, but she was not too sure. A hand gripped the Hurlock's shoulder and hauled it off of her. It was Carver, who was about to strike his sword at him, but this time Winona was quicker. Something possessed her - the knowledge that she had to eventually, perhaps? - and she grabbed the dagger from her back, jamming it into the Beasts throat. Blood started oozing out of the neck, thick and black, as she dragged her weapon out of it again. In this moment she felt no remorse and she knew that the images before this would hunt her more than the killing part. She had to do this. She had to do this at least once. Hot tears found a way onto her cheeks.

Bethany was immediately at her side, barely covered in blood at all, at least in comparison to her siblings who seemed to have taken a dive. "That was the last one! Let me just close the wound."

"Wound?" She reached for her brow, immediately wincing at the pain. Her own blood clung to her fingers. The ringing sound seemed to grow stronger again, and she fought the urge to faint. It became easier as Bethany's soothing healing spell spread over her head again.

"I don't think I can do much more. But at least I stopped the bleeding." Winona reached for it again, but the mage slapped her hand away. "Don't touch it." With these words she turned to Marian, who had sprained her ankle.

Carver held his hand out to Winona and she took it in hers. He helped her up, squeezing her hand reassuringly in the process.

"You shoot well, but your fighting is, well, shit," Hawke claimed, while her sister worked on her ankle.

"Usually my targets don't fight back..." Winona went to run a hand over her neck sheepishly, but winced at the pain that spread from her shoulder to her old bruise. That collision with the ground was a bit harder than anticipated.

"It wasn't that bad for someone with no experience", Carver said slowly, looking at Hawke. Winona just laughed at that.

"If you mean completely helpless and weak by 'wasn't so bad' than yeah, it wasn't so bad."

"Hey, you survived, didn't you?" His brow formed an angry line. Why did this comment send him off - she did not make fun of him after all, but of herself.

"Fair enough," even if she only survived thanks to them. The reply however seemed to satisfy him as he turned to his mother to receive his backpack from her.

 

As soon as Bethany finished healing Hawke, they continued on. Yet soon they were followed again by the menacing growls.

The two mages quickly fired some spells into the Darkspawns' way. Winona's vision was still blurry on her hurt eye, but she managed to shoot some of her arrows in the right direction.

"Look!" Carver pointed to a path between two rock formations. Marian gave him a nod and everyone ran towards it, before Bethany cast a fire spell to cut off their enemies. Now they could no longer follow them, the once who tried quickly turned into a burning corpse. Impressive. Winona watched fascinated as more and more gathered behind the fire. Four, five, six. This spell better be long lasting.

The Hawke family gathered in a circle. _Why_ , the girl wondered, _shouldn't we be running away instead of waiting for the fire to extinguish_?

"I think that's all of them," Carver explained. Meanwhile Winona spotted Leandra struggling to get up and swiftly came to her help.

"For the moment," Bethany replied as her shaking hands wiped her brow.

"Maker save us, we lost it all. Everything your father and I built." At this point Leandra seemed close to tears, her entire weight now supported by the tag-along. Winona felt for her, as the wave of despair hit her, her own mixing with Leandra’s within her chest, getting stuck in her throat. She tried not to succumb to it and start to cry. When will this running finally stop?

"At least we're alive. That's no small feat."

These words made Winona swallow - she would always recognize them. Humorous first words. _It's Game Dialogue time. Of course._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter. Comments and kudos are love!  
> xoxo, domerina


	3. That One Chapter With The Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys will hate me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took a little longer than expected and I really don't want to bother you with excuses, I just had a lot of decisions to make with this one and I tried push that off for a while. But here it is now so enjoy it as a late Christmas/early 2016's funeral gift. Anything you recognize is probably Bioware's not mine. :*

Spread out on her bedroll, Winona absentmindedly kept twirling a copper in her hand. Finally she had a chance to count what she had taken from he carriage. Seven golds, fifty-two silvers, and twenty-nine coppers. Now, she may not be able to quite put it into relation with “normal currency”, but she was sure that it was quite a lot. Also, the pouch felt heavy, it was good sign. She made sure that no one saw the contents of her bag, since they made it onto the boat. Many of the refugees - or of the other refugees, she was one of them now after all - were desperate and they would turn green at the sight of even a silver. Winona was not interested in risking her life - again. The events of four days ago still would not let her go.

 

 

As the Hawkes discussed what their next course of action should be, Winona kept out of it. Bethany sent her some looks now and then, to make sure she was alright, but she could not face her. After all, she was a dying person. In a sense. The traveller was the only one who knew and had no clue what to do about it. Should she save her, or would that change something in the game? Or future… Or, okay, this was giving her a headache – her decision would be a spur of the moment decision then.

As for game similarities, Winona was happy to note that they did not cross path with as many Hurlocks on their way to Aveline. And meeting Aveline took way longer; it was not just a jog u a hill. Winona was kind of excited about meeting the warrior for she was one to majorly kick ass - more protection for this puny archer. The girl felt useless most of the time. _Good thing, this is only temporary and that I'll soon be off to homeland_. In this moment she firmly believed in that thought. Had to, to keep her going. Also, it just seemed to make sense to her - she managed to come here quite easily, so she should be able to fade away just as well. The book would tell her how.

Hours had passed, when they hurt the metallic ring of swords meeting. A swarm of Darkspwan surrounding a muscular redhead and a Templar - the crest gave him away. The two were outnumbered, but Aveline managed to protect her husband - his name no longer in Winona's memories - with her shield and talent. She managed to decapitate two Hurlocks with one smooth move of her steel, which would have been so cool if it had not been real. Winona grimaced as the bodies slumped to ground. The others seemed to have caught wird of the new arrivals, a few already charging towards the Hawkes.

"Oh, fuck me. There are so many of them."

"Then we better fight," Carver responded, unsheathing his weapon and running towards the crowd. For a second only Winona was impressed by him and his bravery. _But is it truly bravery or maybe just stupidity_?

She was back with the shooting and aiming, her eyes always trained on the Hawke that needed the most back up, which was mostly Bethany. Point, shoot... Headshot?! She managed to aim perfectly into a soulless eye, taking the monster down instantly. To say that she was smug about it was an understatement and this mere fact disgusted her more than the pile of corpses they have been leaving behind. She just took a life. Again.

Of course, her mixed pride was short lived as two beasts decided to target her now. Their intent was clear as they turned their attention from Bethany to the archer, who quickly fired an arrow, hitting his neck, he was bleeding furiously now, stopping dead in his tracks and choking on blood - it was however Bethany who served the killing blow, as a lightning dispatched from her hand, electrocuting the monster.

By now, its friend was to close for her bow, so she took the dagger from her hip. The girl knew that just going for it would get her killed, so she needed to be smart about this. She waited for him to strike out before quickly jumping to the side, almost successfully dodging the blow, that cut right through her leather trousers into her leg. In the meantime she managed to slam her dagger into the things neck, crying out loud as she felt the slash on her side. She quickly jumped back from it, but she felt something warm flow down her cheek. It was not tears, but blood. Again. But it was not hers - it was a dark corrupted shade, it was blighted. Her legs gave in beneath her, just as the monster's head hit the ground, his neck still practically spraying blood into the air. _Huh, and I always thought that action movies were exaggerated_.

She furiously wiped the corrupted liquid from her cheek, her right hand still clinging onto the dagger, shaking. In the meantime the clanking of swords had stopped.

"I'm bleeding," she managed to croak out, not daring to glance down to her thigh for the wetness there already told her everything she needed to know. _What is this shi_ t? _Why do I keep getting hurt. I'm sure this will scar, this is bullshit._ Winona bit back the tears as the shock slowly subsided and the pain started to spread, first it was sharp but became dull in a few seconds. Her head started feeling light and dizzy now and the ringing came back, muffled but prominent on her right ear.

"I can fix this!" Yeah, that did not sound too convincing. Bethany was on her side now, Hand already engulfed in blue, ready to heal. The dull pain in her thigh was shortly replaced by a warm prickling. Then there was this tightening sensation as if her skin was pulling itself together again. The girl did not dare to look down until Bethany sighed and the blue light extinguished. The wound was still bloody, so she could not make out much, except for a tear in her pants where the leather had not been reinforced, and a straight line in her flesh. The sight made her dizzier. That's when she remembered the beige bandage in her bag. She quickly fished for them, before wrapping them around the leg with the help of Bethany.

"Can we now all agree that Winona is no longer allowed to fight?" It was Carver, his arms crossed, his angry eyes trained on the helpless girl. The look made her feel so small and once again useless. Like she was nothing but a disappointed. She admitted he had a point, but she just could not sit back and watch while people were risking their lives for her. Her pride was too great and stubborn for that.

"Don't be rude. She helped us greatly from the side lines, it's not her fault that the Darkspawn decided to attack her," Bethany defended the half-stranger and it warmed her heart. It was good to hear that she was in fact not a complete waste of space.

"Yeah, this really is a problem. But since Carver seems so concerned of her wellbeing how about you keep an eye out for her?" Hawke suggested with a grin.

"Oh no," the twins cried out in unison.

"I'll take care of her. We'll be your back up. That makes more sense than Carver drawing even more attention to a still injured woman," Bethany argued.

"Fine by me." Carver did not seem too fine, but then again when did he ever. It's like he was hitting second puberty or something, all agitated and irritable. There was no right by him.

A throat cleared behind them. It was the Templar who was making his way towards them with quite the serious limp.

"Apostates! Keep your distance!"

While Bethany almost shot up from beside her, eyes full of suspicion, Winona decided to spend some more quality time with the dirt. Frankly, she was scared of the agony that she would have to endure once she had to support her weight on her leg again.

"Oh, the Maker has a sense of humour. Darkspawn, and a Templar. I thought they all abandoned Lothering."

"The spawn are clear in their intent, but a mage is always unknown. The Order dictates..."

Almost completely simultaneously Aveline and Winona sighed annoyed.

"Wesley, the Maker will understand." Aveline Vallen was tall to say the least. Once again a person taller than Winona and she loved it. Her skin was almost iridescent; white meeting reddish brown freckles on her shoulders and face. The red hair a mess but headband firmly in place, keeping the chaos mostly out of her face and most importantly out of her sight. She was beautiful; her rough and weathered, sort of tomboy style just added to it. The game never did her justice. The traveller could not help but marvel at the unique beauty. Especially with those arms, trained from years of sword wielding.

The decision to join up together was quickly made, once the Templar got off his high horse. With the help of Bethany, Winona slowly rose from the ground, carefully putting one foot behind the other. The second her injured leg hit the ground, sharp pain went from the thigh to her hip up to her bruise. It was a terribly messed up chain reaction of hurt and discomfort. The girl groaned and Bethany simply petted her shoulder and handed her a blue-green root from her pocket.

"Chewing elfroot might relieve some pain," was her simple explanation.

Sounds fake but okay. Knowing herself and the delicate situation of her stomach, the girl did not look twice at it but instead shoved it into her mouth, biting down on it. She expected it to be herbal and fresh in taste, but it was bitter in a way that made Winona wonder if her tongue was going to fall off.

As they tracked down the path, Winona became more and more on edge. She enjoyed Bethany's company, since the twin was easy to talk to and polite - things you could not say about her counterpart, but he also had his sweet moments. With every step they grew closer to her potential death and with every step Winona tried to tell herself that it might not happen - that the writers just did it for the pain(TM). Perhaps she does not have to do anything.

 

Her chest became heavier whenever the now considerably big group neared higher ground. With this hill it was especially hard to breathe, so Winona closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing but soothing darkness, taking a huge gulp of air into her lungs. Yet, instead of black she encountered pictures of horror behind her lids. She almost choked on air, as she saw a huge monster grabbing Bethany and smashing her against the ground. Panic struck her limbs, rendering her body motionless. A delicate finger tipped her on her arm twice.

"Are you well?" The question came from Leandra, but Winona could not look at her. She just nodded and continued on.

A vision. This was a vision. Or was it? It felt more like a taunt, a reminder of how useless she was here, even though she knew the future of this family. The great disasters and dramas to come. At this moment she wished she could blame it on the game’s writers but as crazy as this sounded, this was real - the only writer here being the hand of fate. Or the maker, depending on who you asked.

It was never smart to meddle with the future, at least that was what all the TV shows stressed, but she wanted to try and make a difference. How could anyone expect from her to stay still as someone she now knew, someone who was just as alive as Winona was at this moment, was brutally murdered in front of the eyes of her entire living family.

So when they reached the hilltop, Winona made the decision to look out for her. She looked around, assessing the battleground. Three safe roots up, unless someone felt like hopping on some rocks and climb - that would make every centimetre a point of entry. But the Ogre would not be able to climb, sooner it would cause a landslide.

And from this moment... Winona does not remember it all. It went by so fast. Faded pictures and terror was all that remained. A hand grasping for Bethany's as a roar shook the whole group. "Don't...!" Yet, Bethany headstrong as ever, went ahead. Lightning forming around her... then no lightning at all. Everything went grey. Once again Winona witnessed someone die, but this time she actually knew the person. And this time she should have been able to prevent it. The Ogre smashed her on the ground multiple times and Winona let out a choked cry as she watched, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene. The gut wrenching sound of bones breaking and muffled screams. Bethany died in pain and disfigured, but at least she passed away swiftly instead of having to suffer through it.

The Ogre was shockingly easily defeated once Hawke caught up with what was happening. The beast itself was... impressive, horrifying, and its height rivalled the one of a two-story house. When Leandra cried into the dead body's shoulder, all the while blaming Hawke for everything, Winona remained silent next to her, shock forcing her to fall to her knees. Because it was actually her fault. She wasn't good enough. Wesley, who seemed to go more purple by the minute, decided to start a short prayer for Bethany. When he was done, Winona took off her scarf and wrapped it around Bethany's neck. It was a thank you in a way. There was not much time to mourn, as the tell tale signs of Hurlocks approaching resonated between the rocks.

They flooded in, groups of five at a time. Winona climbed up a rock and shot with her bow, but to her horror she soon found that she was all out of arrows. "Oh fuck!"

"There are too many..."

A loud growl startled both parties, and Winona's heart stopped - Flemeth. The dragon rose over their heads, spitting fire and the traveller had never seen something so beautiful as the violet scales reflecting the sunlight. Yes, the creature was as breathtaking as well as it was an inspiration to piss her pants.

What was even more fascinating was the way she landed without much trouble, before the fog formed around her, concealing the transformation to her human form. Between the wafts of mist she stepped forward, dragging a dead Hurlock behind her. The Witch of the Wilds was a majestic sight to behold. Violet leathers clung to her old body, shaping it in a way that almost made her look twenty again, if it was not for the face that bore the markings of age - which did nothing to obscure the beauty of it.

 

The following conversation was eerily similar to the games as well, ending with Flemeth's proposition. You deliver something for me and I'll bring you somewhere safe. Marian seemed to consider it, of course. She looked back at Bethany's lifeless body. "Not one more." The words went through Winona's mind as if they were her own. But they were Marian's. Unspoken. Thoughts. Hawke's determination spread through her brain to her neck and goose bumps formed themselves down her shoulders. She had never heard someone's thoughts like this. This was not normal. Was she growing stronger? Or maybe her own mind filled in the blanks. It was quite obvious what was going through Hawke's thoughts anyway.

"Roast a few more Darkspawn and I do whatever you want."

 

"I see you found my gift," Flemeth turned to face Winona, who in reaction instantly became pale. It made sense. The message was hers. She had known of her arrival, of course she had. This was Mythal, after all.

"What gift?" Carver questioned, his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed.

"My armour... I found it by an abandoned carriage," Winona stammered.

"Use it wisely, my dear traveller. You won't be getting out of this for a long time."

The girl felt uneasiness settle into her bones. What did she mean she would not get out of this _for a long time_. How long, she wanted to ask but instead she stammered with the most painfully broken voice to ever leave her throat: "I-I... I want to go home."

She felt a hand wrap itself around her shoulder, and it was oddly comforting yet left her longing for a hug. Looking over, she found Marian's blue eyes staring back at her. Right there, she wanted to break down and shower herself in tears, but the understanding in these bright blue eyes helped her to withstand the desire. Winona cleared her throat.

"But thanks for the armour anyway."

"My pleasure. Now, what shall we do about him?" They all turned to Wesley, who could no longer support his weight and was now lying on the ground. There was no saving him from the blight now.

 

As the story goes, the witch kept her promise. Also, Winona was happy to inform you that riding a dragon was exactly how she had expected it to be - incredibly terrifying. It was embarrassing, how she clung onto Marian, her face buried between the poor mage's shoulder blades for hours. "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this," became her inner mantra.

 

Five hours later, they found themselves before the city of Gwaren. Big eyes looked down at the city flashing in recognition as she discovered parallels to the buildings in Lothering... I suppose you can call this Fereldan architecture... It all looks like barns, in all honesty. She was more of an Orlais-type of girl then. What was different to Lothering was the amount of houses though, hiding the ocean behind them. It was smaller than her hometown, of course, but it was definitely more than a village by medieval standards.

Flemeth had transformed back into her human shape, listening as Leandra thanked her profusely. "There is no need for thanks. This is a bargain, not a favour."

"Well, what do I have to trade in to become a dragon?"

"Mmh, I could do with your soul."

"Ah, I pass," Marian just shrugged.

"We're leaving now, then. Don't worry your package will arrive at its destination. Might take a while. Shipping during a blight is a dangerous endeavour."

As the group was turning to leave, Flemeth called back for a final time.

"I wish to talk with the fisherman's daughter for a second."

Winona swallowed. Okay, so Flemeth knew about her origins. Not necessarily a bad thing, but the traveller couldn't help but worry. Her shaking legs carried her over to Flemeth, who now tried to bring some distance between them and the others, who stood still in confusion, watching.

"You are a smart girl, so I am sure I don't have to tell you that I know, who you really are," Flemeth started, a smirk on her lips as she turned to look at Winona, arms crossing. The girl just nodded her head shakily. "Hah, don't be so afraid of me. I am one of the few people you will encounter who carry no ill intends towards you whatsoever. However, my good will could quickly change, if you do not listen to me."

A sigh escaped the witch’s lips and she rested an armoured hand on the girls shoulder. "I don't quite understand myself what happened yet, but I need you to refrain from trying to go home. Whatever you did, it ripped a hole into the fade, bleeding into your and our world alike. I fixed it on this side, as you slept, but it weakened the veil there immensely. I will look into a way to bring you home safely, without destroying reality, but until then I need you to stay put here. You understand? No running around playing mage."

"Okay..."

"What did you say?"

"I said, I understood."

"Mhm, yes, that brings us to the next problem. You probably don't realize it but you have a faint magical potential. Might grow over time. Try not to get caught by the Templars, yes? Don't be afraid of your magic as well. You've always lived with it, the emotions and visions. Spirits will whisper into your ear, but you should not always believe them, nor should you indulge them. Don't share too much of your gift. Changing the future is dangerous. You might think you are doing everyone a favour, but in reality it draws consequences far worse from what you tried to prevent." Winona was confused at first; her a mage? But than she remembered how the book said that her talents where special and so on, and she realized that it basically meant that her talents were quite literally magic. Flemeth's hand let go of her, slowly turning around. "This will be very interesting, I'm sure. Good luck, traveller. You'll need it."

While Flemeth disappeared between the trees, Winona tried to process and dissect the things she had just heard. Obviously, Flemeth seemed to know much about her, but not about how she was connected to their world and that she pretty knew the event of the next twelve years. The girl took a breath and turned around, her mind racing. Not try to go home? That was... too much to ask from her. She had to try. Or at least look for something to try. She would definitely take her book apart for a solution. Yet, Winona had to show some understanding, after all, she knew much of the fade from the game and she knew that there would soon be a certain someone trying to rip the veil apart. This whole endeavour was dangerous.

She was not to interfere; she was to let any destruction happen. The mage rebellion, the breach, just let it all happen. Well, hopefully she would not be sticking around for the breach.

She got back to the others, first unaware of their curious stares.

Carver decided that it was his right to know about Flemeth's and hers little chat, and so he started interrogating her. "What did the Witch want from you, huh? Who are you to her?" His words almost sounded resentful - they did most of the time. It was his suspicion that hit Winona - quite literally. It seeped right through her skull and nestled behind her eyes.

"She... she..." His questioning caught her off guard. For some reason she did not think they would care about this. For some reason she did not think at all, apparently. "She was curious about me, just as she was of Hawke." In her head she quickly tried to find some logical explanation that had nothing to do with her being from another universe. Then it hit her. "She said I had magical potential. And that it was strange that I've never noticed before."

"Wait, what? Another delicate mage flower? Just my luck."

"Oh," Hawke exclaimed. "But how did you never notice? Is it a family thing to sneeze fire or something?"

"Sounds more like a dragon thing to me than magic."

"But dragons are magical, Winona!" Marian smirked.

"Fair enough. I'm probably very weak. Always had vivid dreams, but that's about it." Winona really wanted to talk about her mental impressions, wanted to talk about how she knew that Leandra could not care less about this whole ordeal and just wanted to hear Bethany once again. Marian seemed to notice her distress.

"I admit, I didn't sense any magic in you... Once we are in Kirkwall we can try and figure this out. What do you say?", she sounded like she was comforting a child, but Winona tried not to be offended by it.

"Sounds great..."

Carver snorted at that response.

"At this point I wonder whether we'll ever arrive at Kirkwall. Let's go to the docks," Aveline joined in, already heading towards the city gates. She had been very quiet, since she had put her husband down before they flew off. It had to be done.

 

They entered the busy streets of Gwaren, and Winona immediately noticed how everyone in the city seemed either panicked or crestfallen. The news of the blight had shook every Fereldan to the core. The next thing she noticed was the smell, mostly piss, sometimes soup. The streets were dirty and wet, although the sun had been shining bright since morning.

"So where to the docks?", Winona asked. Carver pointed to a set of signs. Again, to her it were all indecipherable runes.

"Oh, I can't read that."

"What do you mean, you can't read that?" Carver asked incredulously.

"I never learned..." _Your script. I never learned your alphabet, boy. No lie. This is for once hundred per cent true. No need to feel bad now, Nona._

"Carver, don't be rude. Not everyone is fortunate enough to live close to a Chantry. Many can't read," Leandra scolded her son half heartedly before turning to Winona. "Don't worry, no shame in that."

"It's never too late to learn," Aveline added.

"Yes, actually, I think Carver would _love_ to teach you."

"Marian, shut up."

They passed a few stands with weapon rags, food and one with shoes. _Oh god, the shoes look horrible._ Winona looked down to her feet where she still donned her expensive fashion boots and then back to the big, bulky somethings. There were some similarities, sure, but it lacked the sturdy sole and the consistent shape. Oh sweet Maker or whoever, how was she supposed to survive here?

Next to the stand sat a small skinny child that relentlessly rubbed a boot to free it from dried down blood. The ears were unnaturally long and Winona's mind shortly went blank in bewilderment. An elf. Of course. So far she had only met humans after all. She had never seen an elf before. The child looked up at her with large glistening eyes, revealing its red puffy cheeks and a long straight nose. It was beautiful in its own, androgynous way and she now understood why the game always stressed the beauty of elves so much. The eyes were about to make her heart melt.

"Do your shoes need cleaning, ma'am?" It asked with a soft voice, but the eyes showed fear. Winona felt that she had intimidated it, so she cracked a smile. _Stop being creepy, Nona_.

"Nah, I'm good. Have a nice day."

She quickly passed the shoe merchant, ignoring Marians amused look.

"Never saw an elf before either, huh?"

"I WAS RAISED ON A FARM!" A few people turned to look at the two, which immediately made Winona's face turn red. Next to her, Marian giggled. But it rang hollow. She was faking it. For her mother, probably. The deaths still clouded their minds, no matter how hard Hawke tries to lighten the mood. However, it was sweet how she cracked jokes here and there, only to make their lips twitch. They all knew it was her way of mourning and no one would dare tell her to finally shut up.

Soon enough the group arrived at the docks and Winona looked out at the sea. It seemed peaceful enough now, the blue in the sky being mirrored between the small ripples and waves. This was too peaceful actually. She could feel a storm coming.

"Look, the ride on the boat will cost ev'ryone a silva. That's no' countin' food, but don' worry, it's no' good enuff to ask fo' more than a copp'r!"

Marian and Carver had already found a boat to Kirkwall and now they tried to bargain with the captain, a small man with a beer belly and crooked and blackened teeth. Despite his outer appearance he seemed nice enough, a very upbeat personality that laid on the accent a little so thick to a point that one was left wondering if it was Scottish or just straight up fantasy speak.

"Oh, you are really selling that boat ride. Food's so lousy it tastes like a copper, should be your slogan," Marian joked, but honestly with this one she was just trying too hard. The captain laughed anyways.

"So, you gonna trav'l with the good ole Minday, or nah?"

"The boat's called Mindy?" Winona could have sworn she saw Carver's eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

"Ya', Sturday Minday." Honestly, none of them have ever heard anyone sound so proud saying the word "sturdy".

"I don't know what your problem is, Carver. Sturdy Mindy just oozes reliability. If anything it's the only selling point so far. That, and that it's currently the only ship setting course to Kirkwall directly, of course."

They ended up paying the silvers and got on board. The ship was not much from the outside, wooden planks everywhere and white (more like yellowish) sails, but it was even less from the inside. More wooden planks, no windows, a lot of boxes and that was pretty much it. There was a room that was allegedly a bathroom of sorts - it turned out to be a hole to use as a toilet. Then there was a “kitchen”, which they were not permitted to enter.

Other refugees had already taken up some of the space, spreading out their bedrolls, so they did the same. In the far left corner they set up 'camp', bedrolls neatly put next to each other in a row to be as efficient with the limited space as possible. Winona ended up between Aveline and Leandra.

"Don't ever loose track of your bag. We may all sit in the same boat, but desperate people will do desperate things," were Aveline's last words of wisdom before they set sail.

 

The first night had been terrible. Leandra next to her was sobbing, while everyone pretended not to notice. She was not the only one crying, after all. Next to her, Winona quietly pressed her wet face into the pillow-esque part of her bedroll, letting the tears leave her system. From the outside she seemed still and almost composed of it had not been for the wet trails on her cheeks, while inside she was practically yelling while beating a drum. It were no intelligent thoughts or anything, just utter chaos. She blamed it on the exhaustion and relief.

On the third day it started storming. She hated being right sometimes. That was also when her stomach started acting up. It was terrible.

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she complained. She was facing one of the walls, hands supporting her on the wood. She would feel the waves clashing against the boat beneath the fingers and she muttered a small prayer for Mindy to stay sturdy as promised. Her head was hanging low between her shoulders.

"You look like shit, too," Carver added, sitting on his bedroll, while munching on a dried piece of bread.

"Carver, we need to practice the flirting again. You really lost your touch."

"Marian, shut up!" Carver and Winona said simultaneously.

Hawke seemed to enjoy herself. "Look at you! Already like a married couple."

"Hawke, I know you are bored, but I don't think this is helping. Look at Winona, I think she is getting sea-sick," Aveline chimed in. She had returned from the bath.

"Also, I could do far better than Carver." With a loud huff the traveller turned to lean her back against the wall. Why did she have to be the one to get sick? Now, it did not bother her that Marian teased the two of them so relentlessly. It was her duty as a big sister to rile her brother up, Winona could relate. She sighed again as she thought of Brodie and once again she found herself wondering if he missed her.

"Ha! So true!"

"And I would like someone in my age," Carver exclaimed, arms crossed.

"What, you mean fourteen?" The girl just rolled her eyes. "You know I am eighteen, right?"

"So, you are the same age! Wait, when's your birthday?"

Oh snap, dates! Oh snap, THEDOSIAN CALENDAR. Her birthday was in August 24th. She only remembered a few months, Wintersmarch, Kingsway and that was it. Okay, but August was the only month to have the same name, right? Little did she know, that August in Thedas was actually September, but whatever, it was an honest mistake.

"Oh, that's soon! She's four month your senior, even." Marian scooted closer to her brother and started poking his arm with her dirty fingers. Her lips were pulled into a smug smile as she watched his expression fall.

"What, she looks like a child!"

"That's not true! And also, respect your elders!"

Carver's next words were nothing but an angry mutter, which no one could quite make out.

"Alright, I think it's time for me to throw up, wish me luck!" With these words, Winona ran up on deck as opposed to the shitting hole. The rain would be the closest thing to a shower she'd have this week after all.

 

Now, days later, the traveller was twirling the copper in her hand, lost in thought, her backpack pressed to her stomach like a teddy bear. Marian thought the girl looked so incredibly fragile in this moment, as she watched from her bedroll. She seemed so unsure of herself, she had seemed so most of the time, and Marian took pity in it. A part of her wanted to see Bethany in Winona's grey eyes, but that was wrong and it would never happen anyway. They were way too different, Bethany always looking for the light in the situation while Winona seemed to take a more realistic look at it, always calculating. Five days spent together, but Marian always seemed to figure the girl out little by little. She always seemed so careful with the things she revealed about herself, as if she was hiding something, but at the same time she wore her heart on her sleeve, sharing her emotions freely.

Hawke was not exactly talented as a healer, but she did her best to attend to everyone. Nonetheless, most of it scarred. Winona now had a gash slicing her right brow and her hip seemed even worse, but she had assured Marian that she was fine with it - even if it did not sound to convincing. No one walked away from Ferelden unscathed, but she seemed almost ashamed of her wounds. Maybe she thought they made her ugly? No. Winona did not seem like the type to be shallow like this.

"I'll teach you how to defend yourself better. I promise," Marian spoke softly, ripping the girl out of her thoughts. Winona looked at her. She had bags under her eyes and seemed tired, but she forced herself to smile.

"Thank you. I definitely need it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. I tried to minimize the game dialogue usage, because we all already know that jazz. This chapter was actually beta'd, but by someone who doesn't know Dragon Age, so why don't you tell me if I get the character voices right. And don't worry, more Aveline coming up in the next one.  
> Please leave some love.  
> xoxo, Dom.


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